UE: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
by katekarson
Summary: Part of my Unexpected Others series - an expansion of Harry Potter that sees the story through other characters' eyes. It is canon-compliant in every aspect, except that it is frequently queered/includes slash and femslash pairings. Enjoy!
1. 1: Dean, Seamus and Neville

'That can't be true. A flying car?'

Seamus grinned, shaking his head as they headed through the corridors up to the dormitory. 'It's Harry Potter. That's just the way he does things, mate.'

'Apparently.'

'Why didn't we think of that?'

'We don't _have_ a flying car, Seamus,' Dean reminded him. 'If we did, I don't think I'd like to crash it into a tree, having flown in it for the length of time it takes to get here on the train.'

'Don't ruin my dream.'

'I thought your dream was 'the ponies, Dean – the ponies'?'

Seamus grunted, shoving him into him gently. 'Shut up about that, will you?'

Dean snickered, ruffling his hair and speeding up a little to lead them into the dorm. "I said I wouldn't tell anybody else. Beyond that I make no promises. Ah – but it's good to be back, though, isn't it?'

Glad for the change of subject, though he still took the chance to throw him a withering look, Seamus nodded. 'Is. You've seen how my mam can be.'

'She's brilliant! You're just grumpy.'

'Yeah, well – she loves you. All she does is nag at me.'

'Equal opportunities,' Dean said cheekily, flashing him another grin. 'Your dad nags you too.'

'Can we get back to talking about the _flying car_, by any chance?'

Dean laughed, flopping down onto his bed. 'Yeah, alright. What else did you want to say?'

'Well. Where did they get it? More's the point, where do _we_ get one?'

'I thought we agreed it was a bad idea.'

'It's the best idea.'

'Have you heard about Ron and Harry?' said Neville, coming into the dormitory to join them with wide eyes. 'Apparently they-'

Yeah, Neville,' said Seamus, suddenly and suspiciously not all that interested anymore. 'Flying car. We know.'

'Do you reckon they'll be expelled?'

'We've been over this before,' Seamus said tiredly, softening his tone at a reproachful glance from Dean. 'He's Harry Potter. They're not going to expel him – and Ron's just lucky they're friends.'

Neville hummed and sat down on his bed uncertainly, as though he was expecting it to fall to bits – Seamus got the feeling that this sort of thing happened a lot around Neville, and having his Gran around to berate him about it over summer probably made him all kinds of nervous. 'I hope you're right. I wonder why they did it, though.'

'Who cares? It was cool.'

Seamus knew he was being contradictory. Dean was still giving him the 'be nice to Neville' look, after all – but the boy himself seemed not to mind. Then again, he probably hadn't noticed he was being teased. It was the default setting for Neville. 'It _was_ pretty cool, yeah.'

'I'll say,' Dean said, sitting up against the bedpost to join in the conversation better. 'Do you reckon they got hurt when they landed, though? Trees are… well. Pretty hard.'

'At least it wasn't the castle wall,' said Neville. His eyes were a little glazed, and Seamus couldn't help but think that he was imagining smashing into the stone himself. 'Hey, er… have you seen we've got Gilderoy Lockhart for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?'

Even Dean looked a little incredulous that Neville didn't know this was common knowledge. Dumbledore had actually announced it, after all. Even so, he apparently had more self-restraint than Seamus did. What else was new? 'Yeah, we saw. What do you reckon?'

A little taken aback at being asked for his opinion, Neville had to come up with it before he could respond. 'I think he'll have to be good if he's written all those books.'

'I think he's full of rubbish.'

'Seamus, you _would_.'

He grinned over, pleased that Dean had latched on to his negativity. He had to keep reminding himself that they'd known each other for a year now. In many ways they were really close, but then again it also felt like yesterday that they'd first come across each other on the Hogwarts Express. It was weird, but it was good. It was also good that Dean already knew about how pessimistic he could be. That way it couldn't come back to bite him in the arse later if Dean didn't want to be friends with someone so negative anymore. He doubted that'd ever happen now, but even so it was nice for every part of him to feel accepted.

'He's full of it, mate. You saw how many of them my mam's got on her shelves. Dad doesn't believe it either – says there's no way any one wizard could have done all of that, and he's not even _got_ any magic.'

'Dumbledore could have done it,' Neville said. That was quite a reasonable point for someone like Neville, Seamus thought, but then he noticed a problem with it.

'Dumbledore could have because he's not spent half his life writing shitey books about it.'

The conversation ended a few moments later, however, as Ron and Harry finally made their entrance into the dormitory. All thoughts of treating the subject of their entrance as an overdone conversation or old news went out of the window as they grinned at them, throwing jealous compliments left, right and centre.


	2. 2: Justin FinchFletchley

On very rare occasions, Justin Finch-Fletchley wondered whether he might not have been better off at Eton. Thankfully, this wasn't one of those days. Having spent a lesson finally managing to speak up and say 'hello' to Harry Potter, he was in quite high spirits. Ernie didn't seem so enthusiastic about it, but Ernie was quite the natural cynic.

'He seemed very nice,' Justin insisted, heading back up to the castle with his friend by his side. 'The kind of person you wouldn't expect to be famous, or to have done anything to merit it. He's just fairly friendly. I like him.'

'I'm sure,' Ernie said, 'but he's just not our sort, I don't think. Getting into trouble all the time – you know it's only because he _can_.'

'Ernie,' Justin berated, an edge of fondness to his plummy voice, 'you sound like a Slytherin, for goodness' sake, and we don't want that. Relax. I really think you'd like him. I thought he might be a little bit of a troublemaker last year before I'd spoken to him, but he's honestly just very ordinary.'

"'Voldemort seemed ordinary until it all kicked off.'

Justin threw him a despairing look, but there was really no point in doing so. It wouldn't turn into an argument no matter what happened. Ernie was a decent boy, and a good friend – they hadn't argued about anything yet, and Justin didn't like to suppose they ever would. It wasn't in Justin's nature to disagree too aggressively with people, and it wasn't in Ernie's to stay silent when he had an opinion. They balanced one another out quite well. 'Well, I'm sure when you speak to him you'll feel differently.'

'Maybe.'

He smiled softly, turning his attention to the crowds of first-years making their way out to the greenhouses. 'It doesn't feel like it's a whole year that we've been learning magic, does it?'

'Not at all.' It was rare that Ernie outright agreed with anything, but Justin supposed that they were all in the same boat with this one. Ernie seemed to think the same thing. 'I feel like I've known you ages, though.'

'Yes, you too. It's very strange.'

'Good, though?'

'Yes.'

Ernie stopped at the side of the castle wall for a moment to do his shoelaces, so Justin stood by to wait for him, drinking in the Scottish landscape again. He'd missed this about Hogwarts. He lived in a fairly big house anyway with a set of extensive grounds, but of course it was nothing on this level. Everything in seeing distance belonged to the castle; every dip in that unexplored lake, and every tuft of grass on the bumpy pastures stretching out all around it. It was remarkable.

'Feels like home,' he told Ernie, but Ernie clearly had something else on his mind. He stood back up with a slight frown, wringing his hands a little. 'Is something the matter?'

'Justin,' he said uncertainly, speaking unusually carefully for a boy with his gung-ho attitude. 'You _would_ tell me, wouldn't you, if you found something out about yourself?'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean… if something came up; if you learned… are you gay?'

Aha. Justin smiled slightly. 'Yes, I am.'

'Oh.'

'Does it matter?'

'Not really,' Ernie said. He seemed more surprised by that than Justin did. 'Why didn't you say?'

'I didn't think it merited it, really. I've just always known, so I suppose I assumed that you would always have known, too.'

'That doesn't make any sense.'

'I know,' he admitted, smiling sheepishly. 'Sorry. I just hadn't thought about it. Are you ready to head up? We'll be late for History of Magic.'

They plodded along quietly for a few more moments before Ernie spoke up again. 'Do you have a boyfriend, then?'

'No. No boyfriend.'

'Why not?'

'Why don't you have a girlfriend, Ernie?'

He grimaced, but it seemed to get the point across. 'Alright, alright. Sorry. I won't ask anything else.'

'You can ask anything you want. You know that. We're friends, aren't we?'

'Yeah,' Ernie agreed, seeming to feel better from being told so. 'I mean… yes, of course we are. Yes. I just wanted to be clear.'

'That's understandable.'

Justin's amused smile stayed on his face as they headed through the corridors, waiting for the inevitable moment when Ernie would ask his next question. Sure enough, at a quiet spot, he spoke up again. 'Do you-'

'No,' he said, grinning down at his shoes. 'You? No. No offence.'

Ernie looked like he'd be beetroot red forever.


	3. 3: Pansy Parkinson

Summer had felt like nothing much different to Pansy. She and Daphne had stayed together throughout, gone between both their houses, and hadn't spent a week apart. Some might say it was asking for an argument of disastrous proportions to stay together all the time, but friendships between pureblood contacts this genuine were very rare. When they'd first met, Pansy wasn't sure she was going to like Daph, even if she _did_ know she was going to befriend her. Now, though? Now they linked arms everywhere they went, told each other everything and trusted that in doing so their secrets were safe. Secretly, they didn't like Millicent. Secretly, they speculated about Blaise and why he wasn't friendlier. The world didn't have to know.

Of course, every other element from Hogwarts was missing, so she had at least _noticed_ the change. She hadn't seen Draco, for example, except for a handful of parties they'd invited each other to or met each other at. They'd written to one another, though. It was interesting to write to Draco Malfoy. He was different on the page to how he was in person.

'Do you think you'll get married?' Daphne asked her distantly one day as they were sitting in the dormitory, helpfully alone. 'You and Draco?'

She shrugged, smoothing her hair back behind her ears. It had grown out of the bob somewhat now. She was trying to get it long and thick like that Ravenclaw girl from the year above – Cho Chang, was it? She felt that'd be more suited to her as she grew up. 'He'll marry one of us, I expect. We're quite a tight-knit year for Slytherin, according to my mother.'

'Yes. I wouldn't disagree with her there,' Daphne agreed, slipping over to sit beside Pansy on her bed. 'Will you plait my hair?'

Pansy reached up to oblige her, taking advantage of the quiet to turn over the marriage question in her head. She'd taken it into account before, of course, but that had all been internal – for somebody else to suggest it made it another thing entirely. Of course, Daphne was a little biased, but this wasn't something they'd ever talked about. She'd said it all by herself.

'Daph,' she said, hoping that her friend would assume her voice sounded odd simply because she was concentrating. The truth, that she was shaken at the thought, was embarrassing even to share with her closest friend. 'What made you think of that?'

She shrugged – the tiniest gesture she could, presumably so as not to disturb the plaiting. 'I don't know. You talk to him a lot. I know we're young, but… these things can be set early on, can't they? Not long before we're seventeen, and then Lucius and Narcissa will probably start looking for suggestions. I know my parents already have.'

'Then you think it's possible?'

'Absolutely,' Daphne confirmed. 'You have a kind of… well. I don't know how to describe it. You seem quite intimate with him, in a way. Nobody else seems to be able to talk to him like you do.'

Pansy considered that. It was true, really. Draco's main friends were Crabbe and Goyle, of course, and nobody would dispute it, but aside from her she didn't really know of anybody who he really talked to. Of course, there were always _people_. He was a popular student and he'd never want for company. On a personal level, though, there was really only her. 'I suppose you're right.'

'Would you, if you had the opportunity?'

'Yes,' she said thoughtfully. 'I would marry him, yes.'

Daphne smiled and leaned her head back slightly to make Pansy's task a little easier. 'That'd be nice. Bridesmaid?'

'Bridesmaid,' she agreed.

'It's strange thinking about leaving Hogwarts already.'

Pansy laughed, patting her shoulder and turning back to face forward again once she'd finished her plait. 'It is, actually. I don't know that I want to.'

'I don't know what I want at all.'

'No?'

'You know. For work. I'm not all that good at anything, really.'

'There's plenty of time to work that out. You probably won't have to work anyway, after you marry.'

'I want to, though,' she said, as though that was obvious. It wasn't – not to Pansy, anyhow. Why would anybody _want_ to work? 'And we have to choose our third-year subjects at the end of this year.'

Pansy tutted and tugged her hair out of the plait to redo it, unsatisfied with the result. 'Just choose what you think you'll enjoy, and it'll lead to something you enjoy. Doesn't that make sense?'

'I suppose it does.'

'I want to take Divination and Arithmancy. Care of Magical Creatures, too, I think,' Pansy told her distractedly. This time she'd do a much better plait, she'd decided – one of those that started right at the top of the head, rather than the usual sort that looked like somebody had gotten bored of their ponytail halfway through the day. In fairness, that was probably what Daphne had done, but it'd look better this way.

Daphne was far less distracted. 'I could take those, too – then we could help each other, or…'

'Well, do they sound interesting to you?'

Pansy couldn't see her friend's face at the moment, naturally, but she imagined the thoughtful expression in quite close detail; how she blinked in fast flutters as if she was thinking so hard she'd forgotten to keep the right pace, and how her whole face tightened up. 'Remind me what Arithmancy is, please.'

'It's divining through numeric values,' Pansy said smartly. This year she was keen to prove to everybody that it wasn't just Granger who had an ounce of intelligence in her, although she planned to show it far more attractively than that buck-toothed, frizzy-haired creature did. 'You can work out who you're compatible with and who you're not compatible with from your name. That kind of thing.'

'That does sound interesting,' she said, turning her head slightly over her shoulder. 'Are you finished yet?'

'This kind is harder. One minute.'

'It _does_ sound interesting, though,' she repeated. 'I think I'd like that. Maybe I will just take those.'

'They're the best of the options, I think. Wouldn't want to take Ancient Runes or Muggle Studies.'

'Where exactly is Muggle Studies going to get anybody in life?'

Pansy smirked triumphantly as she finished plaiting the hair and fastened it with a neat finish. Excellent. 'Well, exactly. Finished.' She kissed Daphne's shoulder fondly and then settled against it, trying not to be too much of a weight. Daphne didn't seem to mind, and eventually turned so they could face one another to talk more easily. 'I'm glad we're so similar. It's like we're on the same wavelength, though I hate that phrase.'

'Yes,' Daphne agreed. 'It's very useful. When we leave here we're going to have to make sure we still have plenty of time for each other.'

'Lots of future planning today,' Pansy teased, but really she saw it as a positive thing. Planning was an ambitious person's best ally, after all – and ambition was a Slytherin's best ally.


	4. 4: Gary Lowsport

'Did you know you're useless for everything, Lowsport?'

He looked up, trying to maintain his usual delicate expression, but there was a fine line between 'delicate' and 'miserable', and he was quite sure he'd just crossed it. The triumphant look on Evie's face was the biggest clue. He may be unintelligent, but he wasn't completely dense. He was observant, at least.

'None of us know how you were sorted into this house. You're much more of a Hufflepuff, don't you think?'

'I'm a Ravenclaw,' he insisted quietly. 'I'm good with charms.'

'But you're not, are you, Gary? All you ever do is lie.'

One day, he'd change that name. Until then it would ring in his ears and he'd hear the contempt in Evie's tone of voice as she said it aloud. Something fancy; something you couldn't say without forming a smile.

'You're not even listening, are you? Are you even capable of that? Can you understand?'

'Oh, leave him, Evie. He can't defend himself.'

It was true. He knew it was true, and he turned away so he didn't have to say so. Lucy, who had spoken, cast him a sympathetic look, but that was all he'd ever get from her. She was beautiful and she was lovely and she was clever, and she'd never said a word to him. These might even be the first set of words she'd ever said _about_ him, and how lonely was that?

He couldn't be this person forever. It'd kill him – maybe not literally, but there was barely any difference. It wasn't as though he didn't want to learn, or that he didn't want to be intelligent. It wasn't that he wasn't studious. He was a Ravenclaw for a reason. Unfortunately, he just didn't meet par. Ravenclaws either didn't understand him or disliked him for letting the side down – and, yes, for his impulsive lying. Other houses didn't bother either way.

It was a horrible existence sometimes, and he was quite sure that most people in his year didn't even know he existed. Well, one day they would. One day they'd know everything about him, and they'd still want to know more.


	5. 5: Dean and Seamus

Dean almost fell over in his hurry to get out of the doorway after their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson – normally, Seamus might consider that kind of behaviour a bit extreme, but seeing as he was just as overcome with the need to burst into noisy snorts of laughter he decided not to judge. They stumbled out together into the corridor, turning right onto another branch of the castle that they didn't know very well. The destination wasn't important, really. They just needed to be far enough away from Lockhart that they could burst without him hearing. He was a professor, after all.

'Cornish pixies,' Seamus repeated once he had his breath back, leaning against the wall and wiping the tears from his eyes. Normally there'd be some shame in that, but he had no qualms whatsoever about glancing up to meet Dean's equally wet eyes. 'Cornish pixies, though.'

'Lilac,' was all Dean could manage still, wheezing quietly and gripping his tie tightly with one hand as he fought tooth and nail for his composure. 'Harmony…'

'Sparkle,' Seamus added airily, clearly in a mocking tone of voice. 'Chi. Balance. Karma.'

'Don't,' Dean begged, waving a hand at him weakly. 'Oh, don't. Just let me recover first.'

Taking pity, Seamus just grinned and leaned back against the wall again. Occasionally he glanced back at his friend to watch him as he caught his breath back, enjoying the easy atmosphere. After a few more moments, Dean brushed through his hair with a quiet sigh, settled, and slid down the wall to sit comfortably on the floor. Seamus followed suit, still grinning at the thought of having to work with Lockhart as a teacher for the entire year. Maybe longer, actually – Merlin.

Soon, though, it lost the humour as he realised they did actually have exams in their third year that they'd end up underprepared for. 'Christ. I can't deal with him. Not all year.' He almost objected as Dean swept another hand through his hair – it had looked better the first time – but then forced himself to return to his complaints about Lockhart. That was a far better thing to talk about. 'I just can't. I'll lose it.'

'Least you didn't snort at him like I did,' Dean pointed out, earning a cheeky grin back.

'Yeah. There's that.'

'He's going to notice that if I keep doing it. You're going to have to start pinching me if I go on for too long.'

'I can do that.'

They just grinned at each other for a few moments, and the conversation seemed to break. They were still a little hyper from the outlandish nature of the lesson, and a tad breathless from laughing so hard, and there just wasn't anything else they could say. Thankfully, they'd reached the point in time when this was no longer awkward. Friends could sit in silence, and that was perfectly alright. Being the talkative type, Seamus had never really encountered that before. As such, when he noticed how he felt about it, it was weird enough to prompt him to stand and say something else. Boys didn't just sit in silence with each other. It wasn't normal.

'Common room until Herbology, then?'

'Yeah, alright.'

Dean took the hand that Seamus offered him to heave himself up, and they started heading off in the general direction of the towers. For the first time in a very long while, it occurred to Seamus how incredibly lucky they were that they'd met each other on the train and bonded so fast. Best friends like this weren't a guarantee. You only had to look at Neville to realise that.


	6. 6: Gilderoy Lockhart

Harry Potter had it very easy, really. He watched the boy head off from the detention they'd spent together answering fan mail, taking a few long moments before he shut the office door and went back inside. They were very similar to one another in many ways, he thought. It was only that the boy had the advantage of being well-liked already – not _too_ well-liked, of course, and that was probably a healthy thing. One day they'd be exactly the same, though. He imagined with perfect clarity how much the papers would love them to be long-term friends.

He stood in front of the mirror to tease gently through his hair with his fingertips. He'd befriend Potter when he was of a decent age, certainly, but the redheaded one – the Weasley – would have to go. The association wouldn't do. He remembered being a natural redhead, and the memory wasn't pleasant. He was blonde at heart.

Hogwarts wasn't a pleasant memory altogether, but that was why he'd come. He was master over memory in so many ways that it seemed ridiculous that thoughts of his school days should floor him so easily. He would forge new ones, and replace the connotation with a pleasant one.

Where was Lucy Gordon now, he wondered? He'd be willing to bet she owned all of his books.

Then again, everybody did.

He sat down at his desk, finally satisfied with his hair, and made himself comfortable as he settled down to finish signing things. There were essays to mark – "Discuss the following quote, as expressed by Gilderoy Lockhart in _Gadding with Ghouls_: 'Zombies are poor, misguided souls in degrading bodies, and ought to be guided to a gentle end rather than destroyed outright.'" – but they could wait. Only Hermione Granger's would merit reading anyhow, and he'd resigned himself to needing a dictionary to manage that. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps he could even have the students mark one another's essays.

He grinned from ear to ear. Every critic he'd ever encountered in his life so far was wrong. He was a genius, and the majority of the wizarding world seemed to agree.


	7. 7: the Marauders

'For a genius you're not very good at being subtle,' Sirius said pointedly, sitting down beside Remus on his bed. For the first time since the year had started, they were alone. Rather, this was the first time in the year that Remus hadn't been able to prevent them from being alone. 'I know you're not keen on this conversation, but it's going to be much easier once we've talked about it.'

'You're going to want me to tell them, aren't you?'

Sirius smiled wryly. 'You're only asking me that because you know it's the best thing to do.'

'That's unusually profound, for you.'

'I can be serious when I want to be,' he said. He sounded so different when his voice was this even that it was almost like talking to somebody else entirely. Thankfully, this other personality resembled the sort of person that Remus was good at talking to far more closely than bouncy Sirius did, so it didn't feel quite as much like talking to a stranger as it could have. 'And I want to be now. So. Are you going to tell them, or not? Or do you want me to?'

'I should say it,' Remus said quietly, looking down at his hands rather than Sirius's open face. 'Separately, or both at once?'

'Both at once,' he suggested. 'That's better than being nervous twice and deciding who to tell first.'

They fell silent for a moment as Remus's thoughts sank down over him. Sirius allowed him the space until he was ready to speak up again. 'Really have to do it now, don't I?'

'They're not going to care.'

'And if they do?'

'And if they do,' Sirius said, 'then I still won't. I've spent enough time with my family to know I don't want friends who judge people for things like that. I'd much rather go down to a twosome.'

James was Sirius's best friend in the world, almost like a brother. To be told that Sirius would willingly abandon that if James treated him poorly was extremely powerful. Remus wouldn't confess to being moved, of course, but it was probably pretty obvious. He looked up at his friend, subconsciously searching for some kind of tell that proved it wasn't true, but Sirius was nothing if not eternally honest. Sometimes he was brutally so, but in this case it wasn't brutal at all.

'You've got nothing to worry about,' Sirius promised, patting his knee and standing up. 'And you're a daft git, you are. If you'd gotten this over with at the start of the year we could've helped you last time.'

'There's nothing you can do,' Remus assured him, not without a note of glumness. 'I'd hurt you, or worse bite you. I don't want you anywhere near me when I'm dangerous.'

'We'll work on it. It's not an 'every man for himself' situation here.'

'All for one and one for all?'

'That's the one. Musketeers, and all that.' Remus smiled lopsidedly, surprised Sirius knew that, and received the usual broad grin back. 'Full of surprises, I am. Come on, then. I won't keep you. The boys are waiting to go down for dinner.' They were nearly out of the room when Sirius spun around to point a finger at him, having forgotten an important detail. 'Oh – and it's happening tonight.'

'Oh, come on; I haven't had any _time_-'

'You've had months. Tonight.'

'Or?'

'Or your dick'll drop off. Or _nothing_ – just don't be a wuss. Come on. I'll be there. No arguments.'

He followed him out of the room sheepishly, wondering what kind of reaction he'd get if he reminded Sirius he'd originally promised this confession could be on his own terms. That being said, on his own terms the secret would never come out. Maybe it was good to have a friend as pushy as Sirius was sometimes.

Remus remembered again what his friend said about loyalty, smiling slightly. It wasn't that he expected or wanted James to be cast out of the picture, but it _was_ nice to know that he meant enough to Sirius that it was an option.

Despite being stared at quite fiercely by Sirius, however, Remus simply couldn't bring himself to speak up later that night, even when the perfect opportunity presented itself in the dormitory after they'd all gone upstairs to bed. It felt like a very strange thing to launch into out of the blue. They'd all look at him funny if he tried to lead into it smoothly.

'Just say you have something to tell them,' Sirius pressed a few days later when there'd still been no progress. They were standing at the top of the common room stairs outside the dormitories, and it felt far too public for this sort of conversation, but there was no silencing Sirius once he started. 'It's not that hard. Girls do it all the time.'

'I'm not a girl.'

'You will be if you keep putting it off. It's Halloween tonight, so they'll be in a good mood. Tell them then.'

'No, that's awful! They'll think I'm kidding.'

'They won't! If they do then I'll help anyway. Stop putting it off.'

'Putting what off?' James stepped up behind them with Peter in tow. They'd both been kept behind in Transfiguration for flicking balls of paper at each other, but apparently McGonagall had been generous with how long she kept them back. 'All sounds a bit mysterious.'

Sirius looked at him pointedly, leaning against the wall of the corridor to halt them all in their tracks.

'Er…'

James frowned slightly, sensing that something was off. Peter was less aware, but even he seemed to recognise the tone of the conversation had turned downward; he kept quiet where he might normally have said something unrelated. James, on the other hand, felt no such pressure to stay mute. 'What? What's up?'

'I just… have something to tell you,' Remus said reluctantly, looking at the wall instead of Sirius's face. He sounded pathetic, he knew, and there was every chance his friend's facial expression would reflect that. 'Something important.'

'What?' James said, but his question was met with silence. He turned to look at Sirius instead as he repeated himself, hoping he'd find an answer there instead. '_What?_'

'He'll tell you. Give him a minute.'

They all paused as a few third years passed by them. Remus noted distractedly that they were talking about Quidditch scores – he almost said something about them until he realised Sirius would probably kick him in the shins. His mouth had gone a little dry anyway. The corridor was empty, though, and it felt like an opportunity he shouldn't waste.

'Look,' James cut in unexpectedly. 'Is it about how often you're out?'

'We've been worrying about that,' admitted Peter, catching James's eye as he nodded.

'We have. But I think I've got it, actually.'

Remus blinked, looking over at the top of the staircase. It sounded like a group of people were heading up it. Sirius had noticed too and shook his head, patting Remus on the shoulder to try and encourage him to start walking. 'Not here. Come on; let's go.'

'No,' James said, fixing his eyes on Remus. It was illogical, as the dorm was only a short while away, but James was just as stubborn as Sirius sometimes. There was no way he'd let them move. 'Just say it.'

He looked up at Sirius for help, noticing the discomfort in his facial expression. Maybe Sirius thought it was a little unfair, but he didn't say anything. The pause had grown too long for James's liking anyway.

'Alright,' he said, sounding hurried but not impatient. 'It's once a month, like clockwork. You come back covered in scars. You get white and waxy around the moon.' The penny had just dropped for Peter, who had apparently not been privy to these suspicions of James's; he made a quiet sound as he tried to process it, but James simply ignored that and carried on. 'Do you want to fill in the gap?'

Remus didn't allow himself a moment this time. 'I'm a werewolf.'

'Thank you,' James replied, voice a little more forceful than he intended. He shook his head a little, backing down and repeating himself much more softly. The tension had broken far more cleanly than they'd expected, like an expert diver in glassy water. 'Thank you. Was that so hard?'

'I don't know yet,' he said carefully, not sure what this reaction meant. He looked at Peter, too, who hadn't even breathed audibly since his last gasp. 'What do you think?'

'I think you're a soft sod for needing to ask me that.'

Peter's reaction was a little less stiff. 'Merlin. I'm just glad you're not dying of something, mate.'

He couldn't help but smile at that, albeit he couldn't hold their gazes for long before he had to look down at the floor. He was twelve years old, and feeling tears well up in your eyes wasn't something twelve year old boys could be proud of. Peter patted him on the shoulder gently, and James took inspiration from that to step forward and give him an unexpected hug.

'You're alright,' he told him. He ignored the group of people as they finally passed by, casting looks at the strange embrace that was clogging up the hallway. 'Don't worry about it.'

'We've got your back,' Sirius added, stepping up behind him to join in on the hug. 'Told you we've got it.'

'I see that,' Remus said quietly, wriggling his shoulders and trying to make a joke of it. Kindly, Sirius laughed even though it wasn't very funny. He stepped back as James did, giving him a lopsided grin.

'Alright. Enough girly nonsense. Let's go get Jim's clever cloak and give Mrs. Norris a Halloween kick.'

Remus laughed and dabbed at his eyes subtly with his shirtsleeves, giving Sirius a grateful look. They wouldn't be this close again for several years – not because of any reason in particular, but simply because they'd have no reason to be. For now, though, it felt like Sirius Black was the best reason to carry on plodding through life Remus could think of.

'Poor Mrs. Norris.'


	8. 8: Justin FinchFletchley

'I don't know why everybody's so pleased. I feel sorry for the poor thing.'

Hannah Abbott nodded, brow slightly furrowed, but she was the only one who appeared much affected by the attack. Zacharias Smith and Ernie both actually seemed quite pleased about it. Normally, Ernie might have been kinder, but Justin had a feeling that the other boy had a bad influence on him. They'd been going around together a lot recently – without Justin, unfortunately. He didn't like to guess why that might be, though his mind kept forcing the same suggestion on him. Instead, he'd just chosen to sit with the girls as much as possible.

'It had it coming,' Zacharias said firmly, ignoring Susan Bones's tut and correction – '_she_'. 'As far as I'm concerned, it's surprising that nothing bad's happened to it already. I don't know of anybody who likes it.'

'I don't _hate_ her,' Justin said uncertainly. 'I daresay I wouldn't particularly want to adopt her, but I definitely don't hate her. Not enough to want something awful to happen to her, anyway.'

'Well, it has,' said Zach, as though it confirmed that fate sided with him. 'Dumbledore'll fix it, in any case – unless they let Gilderoy Lockhart get his hands on it first, that is.'

Lockhart was another common target of both Ernie's and Zach's, but Justin had his reservations when it came to criticising the man. After all, if they were playing the game of 'Dumbledore knows best', then how could he have been hired in the first place if he was so incompetent? 'I don't know what you and the rest of the school have against the poor man,' he said. 'Have you been through the reading list yet? He's got plenty of experience.'

'He's got plenty of hot air,' Ernie corrected pointedly, smirking as Zach nudged him in the arm to add his own version.

'He's got plenty of people who fancy him and let it cloud their judgement.'

Justin chose to ignore that, well aware what it was supposed to mean. Ernie hadn't kept as quiet about his sexuality as he'd expected him to. It wasn't a problem, per se, but it was definitely a mild irritation when he had to come into contact with people like Zach.

'He's written books,' Hannah contributed, but soon rolled her eyes and backed out of the conversation to carry on talking to Susan and Megan as she saw that her point was going to be ignored. Justin wished that he could, too, but if he did that then there'd be no conversation to begin with – only Zach and Ernie agreeing with one another. Besides, somebody needed to stick up for Lockhart in his own absence.

'Anybody can write a book.'

Justin resisted the urge to tell Zach to write one himself, then, as he turned to face the boys better. 'Maybe. I just don't think Hogwarts would hire somebody completely useless. They don't let just anybody in, you know.'

'They do with students,' Smith said vaguely, and Justin couldn't shake the feeling that this was supposed to be directed at him – not least because Ernie was looking away with a look of discomfort on his face where there'd usually be agreement. 'Apparently.'

'Now you're beginning to sound a little bit like a Slytherin,' Justin warned politely. 'Everybody's entitled to an education.'

'Surprised you think that, being an Eton boy.'

Justin looked at him with a cool expression, distinctly unimpressed with that kind of comment. He couldn't approve of the idea of sparking off a full argument about it, though, as much as he felt he'd be able to win it and put Zach in his place. As such, he tried to ignore it and answer as maturely as he could. 'I just think it's important that we don't discriminate, for any reason.'

'I think it's fine to discriminate against Lockhart for being a pure idiot.'

'And against Mrs. Norris for doing her job, presumably.'

'I'm just saying I don't feel _sorry_ for it. I'm not the only one.'

'_Her_,' Susan corrected again, more assertively, she was ignored again.

'I honestly don't know why you're sticking up for it.'

'Because she's a living thing, Zach,' Justin said, patience beginning to ebb away, 'and now she's been frozen, and it's not nice.'

'Merlin, I wish Snape'd get himself petrified,' Ernie said wistfully. It felt like a betrayal.

'Well, clearly we're not going to agree,' Justin said as politely as he could, 'so I think I'll bow out now and talk to the girls.'

'Typical, when you're losing,' Zach said. It was presented as mere teasing, but Justin suspected his intentions were less friendly than that.

'Actually, could I just have a quick word with Ernie, please?'

Ernie looked surprised at that, but shrugged. 'Yeah, alright.'

'Will you come for a walk?'

'Out there, where a creature's attacking things? Don't think so.'

'Just go up to the dorm,' Zach suggested, leaning back into the chair to relax more. 'He can't get into our common room. You'll be safe there.'

'Sorry – _who_ can't?'

'Potter. They reckon it might have been Potter.'

Justin screwed up his nose slightly. 'I don't think so.'

'Well, that's what Snape thinks. He's biased but he's clever – apparently he was missing from the Halloween feast. Where else d'you suppose he'd be? And to top it all off,' Zach said, tone getting richer and more lively as he noticed the number of people listening to him, 'apparently Potter found out he was a squib. Filch, I mean. They reckon that was why Mrs. Norris was attacked – to get at him. Chase him out of the school.'

'_Enemies of the heir, beware_,' Ernie reminded them. 'They think that means non-pureblood folks. Muggle-borns, squibs, supposed blood traitors… and you know he grew up with muggles he hated. It makes sense.'

Everyone sat in silence for a few moments. Justin didn't like to think it, but what Zach was saying wasn't completely removed from logic. Harry hadn't seemed the type to go in for prejudice, but all those things did add up to a very odd set of circumstances. Why _wouldn't_ he have been at the Halloween feast? Everybody looked forward to that. Last year it had been used for funny business as Professor Quirrell had let in a troll. Had this year been host to something even more worrying?

'Come on, Ernie,' Justin said eventually. It seemed to remind everybody else of their previous conversations as they all started speaking again. 'I'll only be quick.'

Ernie stood up with a quiet groan as though it was a huge burden to him, staying quiet as he followed Justin up to the dormitory they shared with Zach and another second-year, Wayne Hopkins. As it was part of Zacharias's territory, so to speak, it felt a little wrong to have this conversation here. If they were right and Harry was the one who had petrified Mrs. Norris, though, then it really was the safest place for it.

'Listen,' he said carefully, knowing he was treading on thin ice here. 'I don't want to be rude, and I don't like to assume, but you and Zacharias…'

'He's not my boyfriend,' Ernie said, sounding a little disturbed. Justin shook his head, a little frustrated that he'd assume that was the question.

'No. I know that. I just don't… I don't think he's a very nice person, Ern. He makes you act a bit mean.'

Ernie tutted, though he seemed relieved that his first guess had been wrong. 'He does not.'

'Do you think he's a very nice person?'

'I don't think he _isn't_ a very nice person.'

'Then I suppose you find it appropriate that he said he was surprised I'm not a bigot because of my background, do you?' Ernie had no answer to that, so he pressed on. 'No, I thought not. I thought _we_ were best friends.'

'Don't you think it's a bit weird, though?' Ernie said desperately, as though he hated to be forced to say it aloud; as though it was what everybody was already thinking.

'What is?'

He folded his arms, squirming uncomfortably. 'You know. Usually you'd be best friends with girls, wouldn't you?'

'Oh, I see,' Justin said. 'I have to say I'm disappointed in you for thinking that. Well, here you are – no. Usually we're just best friends with whoever we'd normally be best friends with, thank you very much. And you can say the word 'gay', you know. It's not contagious.'

'I know that,' Ernie said, sounding defeated. 'I'm sorry, alright? I don't think he's mean, though. I think you'd like him, if you tried.'

'I'd be surprised if you could get him to be polite to me, let alone friendly.'

'Then you try first, okay?' He sighed and sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair. Evidently he felt put-upon, even if Justin wasn't sure he agreed. 'You're far more mature than he is. I'll give you that. So you try first.'

'Alright. I'll try,' he said. Really, though, he wasn't thinking about trying at all. He was thinking about exactly how much it stung that Ernie didn't want to be close friends anymore.


	9. 9: Dean and Seamus

'You've changed loads, you know,' Seamus said, leaving History of Magic on the day Hermione asked about the Chamber of Secrets. There were people milling around them talking about it, and Seamus had a feeling they'd join them in a second, but for now he'd just had this thought strike him. It felt like the kind of thing he should say aloud.

'Oh?'

'First year you wouldn't have said boo to a goose, and now you're asking professors questions even after they've already said they'd rather not answer 'em.'

Dean thought about it for a moment, and seemed to agree; a warm smile stretched across his face. 'Yeah, I guess. That'll be your influence.'

'Nah,' Seamus said, though secretly he agreed, remembering what Dean had said to him in their first year. He just felt it'd be better to credit his friend with all the confidence. After all, he still had a short while to go if being fully confident with himself was actually what he wanted. 'You've just started feeling better about it, I reckon. It's good. I'm glad.'

'It is good. I hadn't noticed.'

Seamus smiled and thought for a few moments before he spoke up again. 'I just remember how cool you thought it was I could ask questions to Professor Quirrell.'

'Am I cool now, then?'

Seamus laughed and ruffled his hair. 'Might've been if you hadn't asked me,' he said, hoping the jokey tone he heard in Dean's voice meant that he wasn't asking sincerely. They'd had that conversation before about Seamus's first impressions of Dean, and he hadn't seemed to believe him properly when he'd heard that impression was 'cool'. He'd have to try and persuade him if he wanted him to, and that'd be a really girly task. 'Being friends with me makes you a bit cool anyway, though.'

'Well, that's good to know.'

'Are you nervous about it, like?'

'Being cool?'

'The Chamber of Secrets. Being muggle-born and all.'

'A bit. Are you?'

Seamus screwed up his nose, shaking his head a bit. 'I know I'm meant to be at risk and all, but it's just not scaring me. They'll have it pinned soon enough, I reckon. Dumbledore's too smart to fall prey to some purist monster.'


	10. 10: Albus and Gellert

'Aberforth, he is _not_.'

'He's poisoning you. Your loyalty needs to be here; to your family.'

'And it is.'

'It is not!'

Albus pursed his lips tightly, pausing for a moment to construct a decent argument. Intelligent as he was, even his head got clouded during arguments – it got in the way, and it took time to clear it. 'Not spending every second of my life here doesn't mean I've lost my loyalty to you and Ariana.'

'No, but preferring him to us does.'

'I don't prefer him!'

'Do you believe that, Albus? I definitely don't.'

Albus maintained a stony silence, tiring of this conversation already. He stood to get a glass of water – normally, he might have charmed one over, but at the moment he needed the movement to break the tension.

'Do yourself a favour and open your eyes to him, alright?'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'You know what it means, Albus.'

'Say it, then.'

They looked at each other, more like opponent fighters than brothers, and it occurred to Albus how very different they were. This was not a reparable relationship anymore – clearly, if Aberforth couldn't bear to get even an inch closer to the rainbow-striped elephant in the room.

'Just be wary of what other people think about you,' he said, both gruffly and carefully, 'compared to what you think of them.'

'You shouldn't try to be so cruel, Aberforth. It doesn't suit you.'

He growled, turning away with the flip of a hand. 'Blind. He's here for you, anyway. He's coming up the path now.'

Albus made no attempt to hide the speed at which he sprang to attention, setting the glass of water down on the kitchen table and going to the door immediately. Gellert grinned at him as he opened it early, leaning against the doorframe as he reached it. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, Gellert.'

'You were asleep very early last night.'

Albus smiled and looked down at the welcome mat, turning a little pink. 'Yes, and I'm sorry. I fell asleep midway through writing a reply to you.'

'That's quite alright. I thought we might go out by the river again today and do some more reading.'

'Of course. I'll get our books… do come in for a minute.'

Gellert did, wiping his feet politely on the mat. Little things like that assured Albus that he was dealing with the right sort of person – intelligent and polite men did not lie or poison people's emotions. When they did, it was obvious. Gellert was more charismatic than he was polished, yes, but he still had his manners.

Besides, his personal feelings weren't really important. What mattered was the cause, and they were both equally dedicated to that, and excited by it. Sometimes the thought of activism frightened Albus, certainly, but those feelings tended not to hang around for long. He wasn't the only one holding the flag upright, after all.


	11. 11: Dean and Seamus

'Just to give you fair warning, mate, I'm going to kick your arse.'

Dean smirked and bumped into his shoulder, heading away from the duelling club poster. Seamus followed right behind him, pretending not to rub his arm where Dean had bumped him. Well, it had hurt!

'Yeah,' Dean said. 'Good luck.'

'None of this mercy from me.'

'Oh?' he said, laughing still, and shared a bright grin with his friend. 'We'd better go and warn our mate Poppy, then.'

"_Madam Pomfrey_," Percy Weasley insisted, brushing past them with a disapproving frown.

Seamus threw him a dirty look back. 'Meddler,' he grunted, turning back to face Dean as they carried on in their own direction. 'Busy hangs around him like a fart.'

Dean snorted, shoving him in the arm again. 'You're unbelievable. Poor Percy.'

'If he wasn't so up his own arse…'

'Ah, leave him.'

A rare, thick pout settled across Seamus's features. 'He stuck his ginger Weasel nose in first.'

'Don't let Ron hear you say that.'

'_Weasel_,' Seamus repeated a little louder, but he and Dean were both equally aware that he wouldn't have said it without having scoped the area out to see that Ron was nowhere near them first.

Inclined to change the subject before Seamus got any more petulant, Dean glanced around to try and catch a glance of something else they could talk about. In anybody else this distractedness would have been irritating, but Dean just didn't tend to annoy Seamus no matter what he did. Finally, he watched him notice something worthy of mention – his eyes lit up a little and he turned back to face his friend to speak.

'You hear about Justin?'

'Sir Talkalot?'

'_Justin Finch-Fletchley_, yeah,' Dean insisted.

'No. What about him? Lost his voice?'

One withering look later, Dean gave him the real news.

'He's a _poofter_?'

'Seamus!'

'Merlin's beard. No wonder he talks so much; he's more or less another bloody woman.'

'Will you watch yourself?' Dean hissed, elbowing him in the side. 'He's only right over there – and he is _not_ a woman.'

'I said he was _more or less_-'

'And poofter is an awful word. Don't use that.'

'Christ. Sorry,' Seamus said, holding his hands up in a gesture of defeat. 'Alright, political correctness police. Your fault for telling me the news in a public space. What about it, anyway?'

'Nothing. Just that he is.'

'Who says?'

'He does,' Dean said, voice a little distant. Seamus looked up to see him sharing a glance with the Justin in question. The last proper conversation they'd had with each other had probably been on the boat coming in as first-years, but the kid still seemed as friendly as ever. Finally, Dean dropped the look with a firm glance in the other direction. '_Apparently_ he said, anyway. He told Ernie, and it just… got out. He's not saying no.'

'Well, that's not the same,' Seamus said, frowning as he caught what looked like a flush in the corner of Dean's cheeks. He looked away as Dean turned back, feeling a bit weird about paying that much attention. 'Dunno what you're staring at him for.'

'I didn't stare.'

'Yeah, alright.'

'Just looked at each other. It's not a crime.'

'Is he your little boyfriend, then, eh?'

Dean tutted and shoved Seamus a little harder in the ribs. Not caring to admit it had winded him a bit, Seamus snorted and pushed him straight back.

'Don't be a git,' Dean told him. 'No, he's not. It's just… I don't know. Weird.'

'Definitely,' Seamus agreed. 'Just reminds me I want a girlfriend.' The smirk on Dean's face prompted him to push on further, a little affronted. 'What? You think I can't get one?'

'It's not that. Don't you think you're a bit… well.'

'What?'

'Young?'

Seamus grimaced, dodging around a few first years who were, for some unstated reason, standing stone-still in the middle of the corridor. 'No, not really.'

'Alright. Well, just don't ignore me when you've got this girlfriend of yours.'

He tutted, giving him a half-grin. 'You wouldn't really worry about that, would you? Don't be daft.'


	12. 12: the Marauders

'There's just no way.'

'There's always a way,' Sirius told him, leaning forward on his bed and face flushed slightly with excitement. He and James had been talking about this all week, if passing notes instead of paying attention in Transfiguration could count as talking. Clearly, they thought it was the best idea any person had ever had in the history of good ideas, but practically, it just wasn't going to work. It couldn't.

'Even adult wizards can't always manage it,' Remus pressed. 'And you have to register.'

'Correction,' James said, wearing a matching grin. 'You're _supposed _to register. You got any idea how many illegal Animagi there are out there?'

'Well, no,' Remus said slowly, 'and I think that's rather the point.'

'Exactly!'

'There could be loads,' Peter chimed in triumphantly.

'Or there could be none,' Remus said. 'Listen, boys, it's a great idea. It really is, and it's very good of you to even spend time thinking, but I just don't think it's right. What if you got it wrong and got hurt? What if you got caught?'

'Like we ever get caught,' Sirius said, forcing a laugh as he spoke – the joke being that they _did_ get caught very frequently, of course. Maybe their track record would improve by the time they actually managed to transform, but Remus still wasn't convinced it was guaranteed to stay secret, and he needed a guarantee if he was going to let his friends put their necks on the line for him. After all, it wouldn't be him that was committing the crime – and this time it was an actual, literal crime.

'I really do appreciate it,' he said. 'I just can't reasonably ask you to do that. I just can't.'

'You're not asking,' James pressed, frustrated enough to tug at his own hair. That was a sign of real stress. Normally you couldn't even get James to towel his hair too roughly in case he tore any out. 'We're offering. We've thought about it. We know what we're doing. We know it's going to take years, but eventually it'd help, and we reckon we could keep it a secret. What's the worst that could happen if Dumbledore found out?'

'Azkaban,' Remus said bluntly.

It stunned them all into silence for a few moments before Sirius screwed his nose up. 'Nah. Happysuckers don't scare me anyway. I'd rather risk it than wake up with a note on your bed one day that says 'Sorry, chaps; literally ripped my face off last night so won't be in school for a while. Toodles'.'

'That's not funny,' Peter said, but it was quiet enough that Sirius ignored him to press on.

'Like Jim said…'

'_James_! My name is _James_!'

'…we wouldn't have said it to you if we weren't sure. I mean – no offence, mate,' he said, giving him a sheepish grin, 'but you're not the only one who can do logic and little risk assessments.'

Remus sat quiet for a moment, looking between the three of them. They were all watching him carefully, waiting for him to say something else. It was a tad too intense, but it wasn't a bad sort of intensity. He couldn't complain with friends like these.

'You're going to do it whatever I say, aren't you?'

Knowing that translated as permission, James grinned at him and bombed over to mess up his hair, complaining as Sirius repaid him the favour on Remus's behalf. It was getting close to Christmas. The first flecks of snow combined with the noisy laughter from inside the second year boys' dormitory finally annoyed the bird sitting there enough to send it flying off to find a better spot elsewhere on the castle.


	13. 13: Justin FinchFletchley

'Did you see that? Coming right for you; to think you'd actually been _sticking up for him_ at first…'

'Completely inappropriate. I just can't – I mean, Professor Snape was right there, and I just honestly don't know why he's not being dragged into Dumbledore's office right now.'

'Little git kept that one quiet.'

'He's bad news, Justin – didn't we say? I knew Zach was right about him.'

Only Hannah looked concerned rather than annoyed, reaching to take his arm gently. 'You are alright, aren't you?'

'Yeah,' he managed after a short pause. 'Maybe.'


	14. 14: Dean and Seamus

'Swear to Jesus and Mary I'm going to break Ron's _face_ in half.'

Dean rolled his eyes as they headed towards the hospital wing – at least, _Seamus_ was headed towards the hospital wing. Dean was just going along as a crutch, really, and grateful as Seamus was for it he really wasn't in a position to be thankful. He'd just started getting some of his colour back after his split-second duel with Ron at the duelling club, and as far as he was concerned the boy's wand was a hazard to the wizarding world at large.

'Why he's allowed to carry on carrying that piece of arse around is beyond me.'

'Oh, leave off. If he'd been paired with Neville you'd think it was hilarious.'

'Well, it would have been,' he insisted bluntly, 'but currently I feel like I'm going to decorate the floor with my guts, so if we could have this debate when I'm capable of opening my mouth without something grabbing the chance to jump out of my throat I'd be much obliged.'

'Seamus,' Dean said kindly, 'shut up.' A few moments later, though, it was him that interrupted the silence again. 'D'you know if you hadn't been paired with Ron and Neville was, you'd have had Neville's partner?'

He grunted, too impatient to work out what that meant.

'Justin,' Dean prompted, after waiting for him to remember for quite long enough.

'Gay Justin,' Seamus elaborated to himself uselessly, beginning to go a bit pale again. Dean looked a bit annoyed at that, but really it was just a coincidence. He thought it was weird about Justin, sure, but it didn't make him _sick_, metaphorically or otherwise. 'He had a shock today and all.'

Dean nodded, still confused about that. Just like Justin, he'd seen Harry turning the snake on him rather than calling it off, but that just didn't fit into what they knew about Harry. They could discuss this later, though. Seamus was in no position to offer up his thoughts now, and he supposed Dean would be glad about that. When Seamus didn't know the answer to something, he tended to spout nonsense and insults, which weren't Dean's favourite thing to hear.

'That _was_ very weird,' Dean finally said, pushing open the hospital wing door and leading him in to a bed. 'It'll be all over the castle tomorrow.'

'Yeah,' Seamus agreed distractedly, grabbing at the cardboard bowl that Madam Pomfrey handed him in the nick of time.


	15. 15: Pansy Parkinson

'Do you think they'll get it in time?'

Pansy pulled a face, considering it. As much as a good portion of the Slytherins thought this purge was a good thing, the teachers clearly didn't, and nor did the press. There was no way they were going to just leave it to keep attacking. That being said, they weren't making much headway with their research into stopping the attacks either. She felt confident saying this on the basis that nothing had actually happened. There had been increased security, yes, especially after Finch-Fletchley and the Gryffindor ghost had become its third and fourth 'victims', but clearly that didn't demonstrate any further knowledge of what the thing _was_, specifically.

Finally, she gave her head a faint shake. 'No, actually. I think they'll have to close the school for a while.'

'Shame if it has to happen before Granger gets it,' said Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes at such a banal contribution to the conversation – if you could call it that.

'It won't be Granger if they're right and it _is_ Potter.'

'Daphne,' she said dryly, 'Harry Potter is not the heir of Slytherin. It'd be very funny if he was, but look at the boy. I know, I know. He's a Parselmouth. You can't ignore the rest of him, though. It doesn't fit.'

'Yes, well,' Daphne said in a snippy tone, not liking to be contradicted like that. 'It might explain why he didn't die when You-Know-Who attacked him. Maybe he didn't really _try_ to kill him at all.'

Draco slid in to take a seat with them now, apparently attracted by the idea of discussing the attacks and Potter – two of his favourite subjects, if for very different reasons. Pansy caught him in the corner of her eye, and sensed an opportunity to further herself that she couldn't bear to miss.

'Really, Daph,' she said, giving her a wry look. 'Potter probably can't freeze _food_ without bursting into tears at the thought of his dead parents. I don't know how anybody could suggest he could do it to a person – or a cat. Besides, are we really meant to believe he's been groomed by the Dark Lord all these years?' She glanced sideways to note Draco's smirk, sending one of her own right back. 'That's children's talk.'

Daphne's expression suddenly became very fixed – frosty, even, and she wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

'Now _there's_ icy,' Draco pointed out, raising a few laughs. 'No need to be annoyed for being wrong, Greengrass. We've all been wrong at some point. Well,' he said, glancing between Crabbe and Goyle. 'Some more than others.'

'Yes,' Daphne said coolly. 'Well, in the interests of making sure I'm not wrong again in Charms tomorrow, I'm going to go to see to my homework now.'

They all watched her go off in silence, tracking her progress up the stairs to the girls' dormitories before looking back to Pansy. This was her cue to be either the simpering best friend or somebody who really fit in with the rest of the heartless gits in her crowd. Really, she'd made that choice in turning on Daphne in the first place, but there were benefits to both. Guilt and the decision to change her mind were creeping up on her anyhow. Poor Daph. She'd just said the wrong thing, really; but they were all waiting for her to speak. Should she make them feel awful or laugh?

She smirked lightly. 'Maybe she's feeling a bit tender today. Better go and see.'

Well, if she couldn't learn to strike a balance between two priorities then she'd never fit in with the rest of the pureblood circle after school anyway. She may as well start to practice now. Besides, Draco seemed to like her anyway, but if she didn't go and do some damage control now, Daph certainly wouldn't.


	16. 16: Neville

Holes were starting to appear in the calm front Hogwarts had been putting on in the face of the monster threat. The mandrakes weren't ready yet, and a few more victims had been claimed. Poor Nearly Headless Nick was one of them, and goodness only knew how that had happened. Justin Finch-Fletchley, a muggle-born, was the other person attacked at the same time.

Frankly, it made Neville feel more and more antsy as the days went by. He'd been keeping an especially careful hold on Trevor – he didn't want him to suffer the same fate as poor old Mrs. Norris. It'd be even worse, of course, if he died outright. The entire school was on tenterhooks about that, understandably. So far, the victims had actually been very lucky indeed, even if it didn't seem it. Any creature intelligent enough to evade Albus Dumbledore had to be something worth being frightened of, after all. It had to be a killer.

The charms he'd bought earlier in the year from various different students were always in his pockets now, but he had a feeling they weren't going to be much help. Fred and George Weasley had been taking the mickey out of them quite openly. Daft as the pair of them acted, they knew what they were talking about. Normally his backup plan would be to hang around Hermione a lot, her being so capable – but she was muggle-born, and that meant she definitely wasn't the safest company to keep right now.

It wasn't particularly encouraging that they had Gilderoy Lockhart as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, either. Though Neville had initially been quite excited to have such a high-profile teacher, even he found him a bit lacking now. Coming from him, that was saying something. The point was that with somebody more capable they might have stood a slim chance. As it stood, it felt as though they were doomed.

Almost as scary as this was the idea that they'd soon have to choose their OWL subjects. McGonagall had impressed on them a few times that they should try to play to their strengths and choose things that they thought that they'd be good at. That was easier said than done when you didn't feel you were any good at anything.


	17. 17: the Marauders

'So. We're all going to take the same classes next year, right?'

Remus looked up with a dubious expression, face all screwed up and disbelieving. 'No, Sirius. We're not.'

'Why?'

'Because,' Remus said, prising Sirius's hands from his shoulder – his question had come accompanied with a light, reproachful shake. 'That's not the point. We've each got to take what we're interested in. You know – what's good for our future. Do you know what you want to do when you're older?'

'Why would I think about that?'

James grinned in agreement, shaking his head. '_I've_ got no idea. Pete?'

Peter shook his head sheepishly. It seemed like he'd really wanted to be able to agree with Remus and be responsible, but couldn't think of a single job he was interested in. Typical. Remus sighed and shook his head, wondering at the amount of chocolate it might take to get the others to allow sheep-minded Peter – harsh but true – to remain free of influence and make his own decisions.

'We need to do what's best.'

'Here, then,' James suggested. 'You pick. You're sensible. You choose the classes you want to take, and we'll all take the same.'

'I'm not entirely sure that's how it's meant to work.'

'Well, I'm sure and James is sure,' Sirius said, looking down the list they'd been given. 'Here, I've got a suggestion. Care of Magical Creatures, because mucking around with dangerous animals sounds like fun. Alright?'

'Is that why you like me?' Remus said wryly, but the joke was lost on Sirius, so he pressed on.

'Divination sounds like a laugh,' James suggested. 'Maybe Ancient Runes…'

'Yes,' Remus agreed, pleased to have more serious suggestions. 'Yes – your French is excellent and so is Sirius's, so I'm sure you'd both pick the runic language up quite well. What about the others?'

'Arithmancy?' Peter suggested, unfortunately at the same time as Sirius insisted "_not Arithmancy_".

'We do only need to take two,' Remus reminded them. 'While I'd love for us to take three…'

'Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes,' Sirius said bluntly, stamping on that idea before it was properly considered. 'All those in favour?'

Peter raised his hand, keen to be on the same page as Sirius was. James nodded, too, which left Remus with the final vote. Sometimes, it was hard to be sensible. 'Yes, yes; alright,' he said quietly, folding his arms. 'If you all insist on having no independence. I thought you might like Muggle Studies, Sirius.'

'Muggles are weird and interesting,' Sirius said, 'and I'd like to keep them that way. Writing essays on things make them rubbish.'

'Write me an essay about yourself, will you?'

'Remus,' he said, looking unreasonably dignified, 'there are exceptions to every rule, though I don't appreciate the attempt.'

'_Why_ exactly do we have to take all the same lessons, anyway?' he asked. 'Are you expecting me to do your homework for you? I'm honestly not that keen.'

'You are,' said James, grinning. 'It's alright, though. No. We just thought it'd be good to stick together, you know? Keep us as a four. We wouldn't want one of us to be left out with a troll-load of homework when everybody else is free to go and… oh, bomb Snape, or something.'

'What's Evans taking?' Sirius said, as if suddenly remembering the most important thing in the world. 'We have to avoid her at all costs. I don't like dangerous creatures enough to endure her lectures.'

'I'm wounded by that,' Remus said playfully, but again the joke escaped Sirius. 'She's not that bad, honestly. She'll be concentrating on her work too much to pay attention to us anyway. She's taking her OWL years very seriously – and,' he added, 'so she should. So _we_ should.'

Sirius grinned and tackled him to pin him down, ruffling his hair. 'Such a stick in the mud. You're lucky I love you like a brother.'

'Well, that's hardly complimentary, is it?'

He smirked and leaned back against the bedpost, adjusting the pillow he'd put there for his comfort. 'I guess not.'

Regulus had started at Hogwarts this year, and had predictably been sorted into Slytherin. While at first they'd been expecting Sirius to be upset about that, he'd actually taken it quite well. Maybe he'd seen it coming. From the sounds of things, not least Sirius's letters over summer, it hadn't been a good holiday for him. What it had been, though, was a good indicator of what sort of person Regulus was going to turn out to be. That wasn't the kind of person Sirius wanted to associate with, apparently.

'Be fair,' James said, punching his arm and giving him a weak grin. 'We're your brothers, not him.'

'That's right,' Sirius agreed. Remus detected a tone of fondness in his voice quite a lot different from the jokey one he was trying to project.


End file.
